Fuck.She smiled.
Not wide. Not bright. Just… awkward. Uneven. Like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to. Like she was asking permission to sit down, asking with her lips instead of her voice. And my brain short-circuited.
I forgot how to breathe.
How to move.
Everything in me just locked up because Aurora Mae Campbell smiled at me. Atme.
God, it didn’t even make sense. She’s given me nods, blinks, all her pathetic little acknowledgements that I’ve grown addicted to, but this? A smile? It felt like she’d handed me something no one else was ever allowed to see. Something fragile. Something I should keep.
I should’ve said something. Should’ve barked out my usual cold nothingness to remind her what I am to her. Dangerous.Untouchable. But instead, I cleared my throat and simply told her in a flat tone. “Sit.”
She lowered herself onto the bench, folder balanced on her lap like a shield, and I turned back to the field, barking for the players to get into position. They groaned but obeyed, spreading across the grass.
Still, I didn’t watch them. I watched her.
Her eyes tracked the team, soft, curious, almost sympathetic.
They were tired, dragging their feet, and she smiled. A tiny, gentle curve of her mouth, the kind that said,aww, it’s okay.And fuck me, I felt it. Like a fist around my chest.
Then, as if she felt me staring, she turned. And her gaze met mine, dead on. No folder to hide behind. No ground to stare at. Just those wide eyes, locking into mine like she wasn’t afraid for once.
I should’ve looked away. Should’ve said something sharp to cut the moment before it swallowed me whole. But I didn’t. I just stood there, locked in, as if she’d nailed me to the ground with nothing but her eyes.
I watched closely as her eyes widened a bit, seeing that I didn’t look away, but she also didn’t. Her eyes started wandering around my face.
Eye. Lips. Eye.
Fuck.
Her fucking eyes graze my lips. Out of everywhere she could look, she chose to look there. Somewhere I wished her own lips were, her whole body, actually.
I snapped myself out of it, ripping my eyes away before I made it obvious. “Shadow properly,” I muttered, harsher than I meant to. “Watch me. Or whatever.”
I didn’t wait for her to nod and skipped down the bleacher steps. Fighting the urge to turn back, I jogged over to the others instead.
She’d be here for a couple of hours.I should just focus on practice. It’s not like anything will tear her away from me.
Wrong. So fucking wrong.
About an hour in, the wind picked up, sharp and relentless. I turned, eyes scanning instinctively, and there she was. Her writing had slowed, the tip of her pen dragging like she couldn’t focus. Her knees bounced, folder sliding on her lap as she curled in tighter around herself. One arm clutched at the thin cardigan like it was a lifeline, but it wasn’t enough.
For fuck’s sake. I was moving around nonstop, body heat carrying me through, and even I felt the bite of the air. Her? She probably couldn’t even feel her fingers anymore.
I dragged my tongue across my teeth, frustrated. I could walk over, throw my jacket around her, make her take it, but no. That would be obvious. That would besoft.And I don’t do soft. Not in front of her or anyone.
But a jacket wouldn’t fix this, anyway. Not the way the wind was cutting through. So I blew the whistle, sharp and loud. “That’s it. Wrap it up, we’re done for today.”
The groans came instantly, the protests.
“It’s only been an hour!”
“Cap, we’ve got stamina to build!”
“Run extra laps tomorrow,” I snapped, cutting them down with a glare. No one argued after that.
I didn’t look at her again. Not directly. But I didn’t need to. I could feel the way her shoulders loosened, the way relief softened her edges, the way she probably thought the universe just threw her a bone.
